The Soundtrack of Our Lives
by xhearttowordsx
Summary: Klaine drabbles based on song lyrics! Rated K for now, I guess?
1. Teenage Dream

**So I randomly had this little image in my head when I was listening to Teenage Dream, and I thought it would be a fun to write drabbles based on song lyrics! So here's the first of hopefully many to come.**

**Have a prompt/idea/song you'd like to be the inspiration for a drabble? Send it my way!**

* * *

**_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_**

* * *

"Uh, Kurt? Are you okay? What…why are you staring at me?"

Kurt shook himself and straightened in his chair, crashing back to reality. _Coffee shop. Right._ Blaine's brow was drawn in bemused concern. Kurt smiled at him, the familiar awestruck, slightly dopey grin filled with adoration taking over his features.

"Sometimes I feel like I must be dreaming to be able to call you mine."

Blaine mirrored his expression and propped his cheek up on his fist. "Well then I must be dreaming too. I love you."

"I love you too."


	2. Hey Soul Sister

_**I can be myself now finally, in fact there's nothing I can't be**_

* * *

Blaine stands leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Kurt at his drawing table across their apartment.

Kurt has a teal colored pencil behind his ear, an eraser in one hand as the other blindly shuffles around in the box beside his sketchpad. His tongue is peeking out between his lips as he studies the drawing, grinning triumphantly when his hand finally finds its target – a thick tan marker with a black stripe around the middle. (How Kurt could distinguish it from the others without checking is beyond Blaine's comprehension, but hey, he won't question his boyfriend's uncanny talents.) His hair is free of spray to hold its coif so his bangs can hang freely over his forehead. His gray v-neck – one of the handful specifically designated for working with art supplies – is a bit rumpled, and even from his post Blaine can see the splashes of paint and smears of pastels that just won't wash out.

Kurt's hand stills as he surveys his work so far, and Blaine takes a moment to glance around the apartment.

Sketches, clothes, supplies, paintings, books, posters, Playbills…an accumulation of their lives and passions scattered in an organized mess from the recent move (okay, three months ago but Kurt has been really busy at work since they graduated and Blaine is knee-deep in applications and prep work for his Master's in music education so the boxes are still sort of everywhere, slowly being unpacked as things are needed or remembered). Sitting on a particularly large box labeled "art" Blaine spies an old framed photo from their junior year taken after Kurt had transferred back to McKinley. He smiles fondly.

The boys in that photo seem so far away, so different from the men they are today – the transition from friends to lovers to partners, from nervous amateur performers to confident artists, from wide-eyed students to comfortable New Yorkers.

Blaine has seen Kurt grow so much, really come out of his shell. When Kurt was once so set on matching and surpassing Rachel's talent to break into Broadway, he didn't have a way to explore his true calling – fashion. Blaine helped him see that without even really trying. Blaine supported him through it all: the bullies, the lost election for class president, the final denial from NYADA, his dad getting sick, but also the Glee solos, the role in West Side Story, the exploration of the city they idolize, the shyness in making friends, the discovery of themselves. When Kurt once agonized over wearing a Marc Jacobs jacket to school in fear of slushies and dumpsters but never dared to mention that he even _knew _designer brands, he now wears it (well, this season's replacement) proudly to class and fawns over runway shows with classmates.

Blaine, though, he sort of always knew he would be a teacher or musician – and now he's training to do both. For a while he was afraid of himself and what he loved and his father's painful disapproval. But with Kurt, he realized what mattered was his own happiness, because Kurt made him realize how good it felt.

Kurt and Blaine found themselves when they explored each other.

They discovered they could be anything they wanted to be.

Blaine sighs, and Kurt looks up at him. A small smile spreads across Kurt's lips; somehow, they're always on the same page.


	3. Somebody that I Used to Know

**_You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness_**

**_Like resignation to the end, always the end_**

**_…_**

**_But you didn't have to cut me off_**

**_Make it like it never happened and that we were nothing_**

**_I don't even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger_**

**_And I feel so rough_**

**_No, you didn't have to stoop so low_**

**_Have your friends collect your records_**

**_And then change your number_**

**_…_**

**_Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over_**

**_Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done_**

* * *

Blaine always tried to play with Cooper, talk to Cooper, impress Cooper. As much as Coop ignored him, he still tried to be the little brother Coop wanted. Even if he new he would just be ignored again. Eventually he gave up; Cooper barely noticed.

_…_

Before Cooper left for college Blaine thought that maybe they were okay. He knew he'd miss his big brother.

He didn't want to be alone.

"Hey, squirt, don't worry! I'll call home all the time, you'll feel like I never left. Ring if you need me, yeah? I'll be back for Thanksgiving before you know it"

Well, Cooper kept up the calls for a couple weeks. They soon became few and far between before nearly stopping altogether. Blaine tried to call once a week, changing up the time to try to catch Cooper free - he wanted to make sure they both knew the other was still alive, at least.

Coop didn't end up coming home for Thanksgiving and was rarely at home during Christmas vacation. He promised to take Blaine to the beach during Spring Break but never called to say when he was coming home, or if Blaine should fly out to LA. Before Blaine even got word of Cooper staying in LA for his first summer Blaine gave up waiting for his brother's call.

…

Three days before the Sadie Hawkins dance Blaine called Cooper to ask for advice. He found the number disconnected.

…

Cooper made Blaine fall off his bike.

Cooper broke the vase in the hall when they were playing as kids and blamed Blaine.

Copper got Blaine's toys taken away.

Cooper gave Blaine the wrong answers for his homework.

Cooper told him to try basketball or soccer. He got beaten up and Cooper brushed it off, told him it made him tougher and stronger.

Copper didn't support him when he came out. He wasn't even there.

Cooper didn't give him advice for the dance.

Cooper abandoned him just like their parents did. But Cooper wasn't even there to pretend to care.

…

Blaine thought that he wasn't cool enough, smart enough, athletic enough, tall enough, _straight_ enough to have a brother like Cooper actually love him.

He stopped trying to change for Cooper's approval.

So why did it still hurt?


	4. Need

**_My hand searches for your hand / In a dark room / I can't find you _**

* * *

_I – I was with someone._

_You weren't there and I needed you!_

_I had nowhere else to turn! No one else wanted me!_

_I was with someone._

_It was a mistake, a stupid mistake._

_You stopped answering my calls, and it hurt so much, everything hurt._

_I was with someone._

_I'm so sorry, Kurt._

_You left me behind!_

_I still love you._

_Kurt!_

_I was with someone._

Kurt woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. His hand flew instinctually to his right for comfort before the reason for it washed over him. He flailed around a bit, hand rapidly skimming the sheets before gripping them in his fist. They were cold and empty.

He opened his eyes to his dark apartment. On his tiny bedside table the clock read 4:03 AM, shining brightly.

Blaine wasn't there. He left the day before, his surprise visit lasting barely a day.

Blaine.

Blaine cheated on him.

Kurt's source of solace was now the same as his pain. The worst pain he'd ever felt.

He choked on a sob and curled tightly into a ball around the pillow Blaine had slept on. It still smelled like him.

Kurt wondered bitterly if Blaine was sleeping soundly back in Ohio.

...

Blaine lay flat on his back in his nearly pitch-black bedroom, left arm slung lazily over his face. His eyes burned, his head ached, his heart clenched uncomfortably in his chest, and his limbs felt like lead. He just wanted to cry and sleep for days and forget everything.

But as tired as he was – in every way possible – he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about Kurt, about what he did, about what he said. Every time Blaine closed his eyes he saw Kurt's face crumple in pain, tears well in his eyes before he ran.

Blaine heaved a watery sigh and flung his left arm out to the open space he couldn't bring himself to sleep in since Kurt had left for New York. (That was always Kurt's side, since the beginning; Blaine would never be able to sleep on that side again.)

He checked his phone for the hundredth time in the past two hours and noticed the time – 4:03 AM – and considered not going to school, debating whether it would be worse than moping around the house alone all day.

For a moment he stared up at the two glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling that he never bothered to take down. The night Kurt noticed them he poked fun at Blaine for _yet another _childish feature of his bedroom, but then decided that the stars represented themselves – the slightly smaller one was nestled into the other as they shone brightly together in the darkness and Kurt could never imagine seeing just one on its own now that they were together – and how they belonged together.

Fresh tears rolled down Blaine's cheeks and he fisted the blankets before rolling to press his face into the pillow that no longer smelled like Kurt.

He sent a prayer to whoever was listening that maybe Kurt would one day find it in his broken, beautiful, perfect heart to forgive Blaine's sorry ass.


End file.
